


world champion (in my heart)

by goreyer



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, they’re in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goreyer/pseuds/goreyer
Summary: Daniel finally gets his well-deserved podium and on top of it, Max becomes world champion. Daniel doesn’t know if he’s ever felt so happy.:::This IS what will happen in the 2020 season I will not take any other versions of events.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 16
Kudos: 148





	world champion (in my heart)

A surge of relief mixed with excitement rushed through Daniel’s body as he crossed the line third. Third. He came third. In his stupid little yellow car. Perhaps it was a miracle, or perhaps it was the knowledge that Max would most likely be on that podium with him if he did so, and just the thought of that alone had his foot pressing harder on the throttle.

“P3 Daniel, P3! Brilliant drive mate, congratulations!” His race engineer shouted through the radio, voice thick with the same emotion that was practically radiating out of Daniel as he cheered and shook his fist at the crowds collected in the stands around the Abu Dhabi circuit.

It took him a moment to collect himself enough to form anything other than screams and incoherent noises, the shock of the race still burning fresh in his veins. The adrenaline from his overtakes still fizzled low in his stomach, a feeling that had become almost foreign since his move to Renault, so much so that he felt nauseous against the sense of his whole body being alight.

“Fucking yes boys! Thank you for everything, amazing car, amazing day, amazing weekend. This is for you as much as it is for me!” He finally pressed the radio button and forced words out, more for the TV broadcasts than anything. He’d say exactly what he wanted to say later, in that moment it was simply about formalities. However, as much as it probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say, he still had to ask one small thing; “and Max? Where did he finish?”

His race engineer kept quiet for a second, as if contemplating why the hell Daniel was asking about Max, but it wasn’t long before he replied, “P1, he got P1. Overtook Hamilton on the last lap.”

And if Daniel wasn’t on top of the world already, he very much so was then.

His boyfriend was world champion.

Going into the race, Daniel knew Max couldn’t do anything other than win if he wanted to be world champion, the standing being ridiculously close between the Dutchman and Englishman that no other result would’ve sufficed unless Lewis had crashed out – which, with the ever reliable Mercedes, was an unrealistic dream to have. They had locked out the front row of the grid together going into the race, Max first and Lewis second, and were at each other’s throats the whole time, easily the two fastest to the point where Daniel lost sight of them well into the second half of the race. He knew Max was on auto-pilot, wearing his concentration face that Daniel knew all too well from watching him play sim-racing or when he was borderline blackout drunk and trying to understand Daniel’s accent.

It was in a blur that he pulled his car into the number 3 spot and sat in his seat with his head resting back. He’d done it. He’d got a podium, finally. After almost two years of waiting it had finally happened again, and boy did it taste sweet. When he rolled his head to the right, he saw Max driving into his spot, head shaking in disbelief. Daniel had to agree with him. It was unbelievable.

Everything was unbelievable. Daniel getting a podium in a team like Renault and Max winning his first world championship at the age of just 23. If someone had told Daniel that would be the outcome of the last race of the season, he’d have laughed and made a crude comment akin to ‘go fuck yourself’.

He allowed himself another moment of reflection before unstrapping himself from the car and detaching the halo, hands shaking almost frantically as he fought against the buckles of the belt in an attempt to get out of the car as fast as possible. He could hear his team screaming his name even through his helmet, and he wanted nothing more than to leap into their arms, barrier be damned.

It took an embarrassing amount of times to reattach his steering wheel once he was out of his seat, but quite honestly, he couldn’t find even a single reason to care. Because he was on the fucking podium. That was the only thing that mattered. People could call him washed up and a wasted talent all they wanted, but not then. Not in that moment. Because he was on the fucking podium.

Leaping into the waiting grip of his team was like leaping into bed after a long day – the warmth that embraced his body was comforting and exhilarating all at once and the needy hands that grappled against his race suit had never felt so good. Thinking back, he wondered how many podiums had ever felt this sweet. Something told him this was different – the idea of proving so many people wrong was different than any others and adding Max becoming world champion as the cherry on top secured it as one of the best. The euphoria that raced to his head was distinct and addictive, and as his name was chanted in his ears from the people that helped him stand on that podium, it simply grew and grew until he was sure his smile was taking up his whole face from underneath the helmet.

When he was finally released, he removed his helmet and fireproof head cover, relishing the fresh air against his flushed skin. It tasted like victory. Or maybe he was exaggerating. He could hear Max’s name being screamed from behind him and when he spun to face it, he caught gazes with Max as the Dutchman pulled off his own helmet.

Daniel’s smile grew impossible wider as he strode towards Max, repressing the urge to pick him up and swing him around in his arms and tell him how much he loved him. That was for another time. Max met him halfway and pulled Daniel into a hug that felt even better than leaping into bed after a long day. It felt like a warm bath after a gruelling run in sub zero temperatures complete with scented candles and champagne and all the chocolate Daniel wanted to eat but knew he couldn’t. Nothing could compare, he was sure of it.

“I want to kiss you so much right now,” Max breathed into his ear, arms wrapping tighter into an almost suffocating grip. “Like so fucking much. I don’t care anymore. I’m world champion, I can do what I want. I can have what I want and I want you, Daniel. I want you and I want everyone to know I want you.” His words were jumbled and slurred with adrenaline and if Daniel wasn’t pressed so close he would’ve missed them.

Daniel chuckled against the skin of Max’s neck, unsure whether it was simply the emotions speaking, or if Max was being serious. The younger man had always been the one with more resignations about announcing their relationship; his own insecurities affecting how he felt he was viewed by others, and he had always said to Daniel how he didn’t want to add to the criticism he received. It was one thing being called a dangerous driver, but another to be called a gay dangerous driver.

“I love you too,” Daniel said in way of a response. Max hadn’t said it in the first place, but the Aussie knew it was implied.

Max pulled back ever so slightly so Daniel could see the glittering of tears in his eyes, “I’m serious. Can I kiss you?”

Daniel blinked once, twice, even a third time in shock, but still found himself nodding. Who was he to deny his boyfriend? He was world champion. Daniel would’ve kissed the ground he walked on without hesitation.

“Good.” Max whispered before diving in, hands lifting to cup Daniel’s cheeks and lips pressing with a frantic force that had the Aussie careening backwards. It was a kiss born of emotion and relief and Daniel let himself melt into it, hands wrapping around Max’s back and up across the planes of his shoulder blades with a satisfied sigh.

An eruption of noise battered them from all sides but Daniel paid it little more than a second of attention before he focussed back on Max and how his shoulders shook with frenetic breaths that brushed against Daniel’s face.

“I’m so proud of you,” Daniel pulled back to say, linking fingers with the hands Max still had pressed to his cheeks, “so proud of you. I’ve never been so proud in my life. First you become world champion, and now this? God I don’t think I’ve ever been so in love with you either, I could drop down on one knee and propose right now if only I had a fucking ring.”

Max laughed softly and leaned forward to rest his head on Daniel’s shoulder, the events of the race finally catching up with his enervated body.

“Should’ve come prepared,” he sighed happily, arms falling to lazily wrap around the Aussie’s midriff.

“Don’t you worry Mr World Champion, when all the celebrations are over I’m gonna go out an buy you a ring so big you’ll have to have someone carry your hand around all day. Shit man, I can’t fucking believe it.” Daniel rambled, “my boyfriend is world champion. _My_ boyfriend.”

He allowed himself to raise his head and looked around at the crowds. Gleaming faces stared back at him and Dutch and Aussie flags were shaking proudly, held by fans that were cheering louder than he had ever heard them cheer before.

“My boyfriend is world champion!” Daniel screamed to them, pointing at Max as he did so with a smile even brighter than the sun. An even louder cheer shook the crowds at that and Max’s shoulders shook this time with laughter.

And when he pulled Daniel down for another kiss, Daniel was _certain_ that nothing in the world had ever felt as good.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope u enjoyed this little thing i whipped up at 3am <3
> 
> Had to write it into the world because I BELIEVE that Max will win the WDC at least some point soon and Daniel deserves that podium so fucking bad.


End file.
